


Just Like Home

by Romiress



Category: Gravity Falls, 亜人 - 三浦追儺 & 桜井画門 | Ajin - Miura Tsuina & Sakurai Gamon
Genre: Crossover, Gen, Technically Ogura is out of Near Miss AU but either way just pretend, The crossover literally no one asked for, Universe Jumping!Ford, but you're getting anyway
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-13
Updated: 2016-12-13
Packaged: 2018-09-08 10:49:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8841667
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Romiress/pseuds/Romiress
Summary: The crossover no one asked for but me, because I think Ogura and Ford would be BFFs.The only thing you really need to know about the relation to Near Miss is that Ogura is working for Satou.





	

Something about the hallways are familiar, and yet nothing about that calms Ford down. He’s made a hundred jumps over the past twenty years, and more often than not the jump takes him somewhere unfamiliar. He’s been to worlds filled with aliens and worlds filled with monsters, worlds where everyone is a human but they all have a third eye located on their cheek. The times he finds something _familiar_  are rapidly outnumbered by the worlds where he finds himself surrounded by the bizarre, and the fact that there’s nothing strange about the concrete hallway is itself strange.

It feels like a bunker in his home dimension, but he’s not stupid enough to believe for a second that he’s come home.

It’s not home, he reminds himself as he creeps his way down the hallway. It just looks like it.

A door almost thirty feet away pops open, swinging open to reveal a massive amount of nothing. There’s nothing but silence as Ford freezes in place, lifting his gun ever so slightly, ready for an attack.

The seconds tick on without any sort of sign, but as Ford stares at the door he starts to feel something _else_. It’s like an itching inside his brain, a sensation he long ago used to associate with Bill.

It can’t be Bill, he reminds himself. Bill is long gone. He’s just imagining things, even as the sensation grows.

Abruptly, a man steps into view through the open door. Ford wants to describe him as _Asian_ , only the odds that he’s actually ended up in a world with an _Asia_  are fairly low. He’s gaunt and disinterested looking, wearing a white lab coat over jeans and a well worn looking t-shirt. More than anything else, he looks completely unbothered by the sight of Ford or his gun, and he puffs at the cigarette hanging from his lips as he closes the distance between them, stopping only a few feet away.

The sensation is still there, his brains frantic attempt at warning him.

“New in town?” The man says without introduction, and there’s no familiar _hum_  from the universal translator at his belt, which means that the stranger is speaking in perfectly serviceable English.

Ford still can’t decide if that’s a relief or not.

“There's something there, isn't there?” Ford says instead, his eyes sliding around the hallway, searching for a familiar peek of yellow. He doesn’t find one, but the man does raise an eyebrow, tilting his head slightly to the side.

“Yes,” the man confirms to Ford’s immense surprise. “About two feet in front of you, and three feet in front of me. I’m surprised you could tell, considering you obviously can’t see it.”

Ford’s brows furrow together as he tries to figure out how the hell the man knew. It takes him a second to realize that the entire reason the man cocked his head was to see if Ford’s eyes followed him. If he _could_  see the thing in between them--whatever it might be--it stands to reason he wouldn’t be able to follow the man’s eyes so easily.

Which only _sort_  of makes sense, because if his logic holds true, then the man wouldn’t be able to see it either.

Ford shakes his head, his grip tight on the gun.

The man moves towards him, sidestepping the invisible thing between them as he strides right on past Ford as Ford jerks back towards the wall to get out of the way.

“Come along, my lab’s this way,” he says as he does, seemingly heedless of the gun pointed at his back. Either he doesn’t recognize it as a weapon, which is unlikely, or he simply doesn’t care.

Ford spares a glance towards where he hopes the invisible thing still stands, shoving his gun back into the holster and starting after the man.

It feels like a standoff as they walk, although Ford can’t decide if it’s just him that feels that way.

“Is this... uh, earth?” Ford finally asks after a moment, and the man glances over his shoulder, the smirk obvious.

“Yes,” he confirms. “You’re in the United States of America.”

He stops by a door, palming a scanner and pulling it open before waving Ford in.

“They’re probably having a fit, for the record,” the man says. “I don’t think they’ll break in, but they’re probably freaking out watching the cameras.”

Ford has no idea who _they_  are, and his eyebrows repeatedly go up and down as he tries to figure out what exactly is _up_  with the man. He’s equal parts _completely normal_  and _absolutely bizarre_ , and Ford can’t help but stare.

He rapidly gets a reason to stop staring when he’s scooted into the man’s lab. His face lights up, his eyes widening as he gawks around. It isn’t as good as _his_  lab--there’s few places in the multiverse as good as his lab--but it’s definitely at a level of technology beyond what his world was capable of when he left, although he does recognize several machines.

“This is...” Ford splutters as he glances around. “This is your lab?” He finally settles on, glancing back to the man.

“My pride and joy,” Ogura clarifies. “We had quite a debate on whether or not you were some kind of soldier, but _I_  knew how to recognize a man of science, and it just won me fifty bucks.”

He feels like he’s been shoved over a cliff, and now he’s just got a long, long fall to get used to the sensation. Everything is equal parts familiar and strange, and Ford has no idea what to make of it. He has no idea how long it’ll be before he can make another jump, but he doesn’t want to give anything away by checking while in full view.

“Where, uh, exactly in the United States are we?”

“California,” the man says, plucking his cigarette from his lips and extinguishing it.

California. California? It’s been twenty years since he had time to think about it, but he’s almost _entirely_  sure that Shermie was in California when he fell through the portal.

So close, and yet so, so far.

The stranger grabs a seat in a swivel chair, reclining back casually.

“There’s probably a small army taking up position outside the door right now, but they’re not going to bust in until I get clear, which I’m not really interested in doing. What I _am_  interested in doing is figuring out what some kind of... dimension hopper? Time Traveller? Whatever you are is doing, and how you got here.”

The man has him pegged, Ford has to admit. He fidgets a little bit, slightly worried about what kind of space-time paradoxes he’s creating simply by existing.

No one’s ever figured out what he was before. Or at least no one since the Oracle, more than thirty jumps back.

He’s pretty sure she cheated that one.

“You’re an American,” the man says. “Who is jumping dimensions with some kind of laser gun.”

“Uh, Stanford Pines,” Ford finally says. “Just call me Ford.”

“Just call me Ogura,” the man says by way of introduction. “Inter-dimensional travel, or time travel?”

“Dimensions,” Ford says. “Or maybe both. Assuming this isn’t all some elaborate trap, this is probably... actually, I don’t even know. What year is it?”

“Two thousand and thirteen. I’ll let you do the math.”

Ford does, flicking down his fingers as he tries to count through universes. It’s all but impossible for him to really track _time_  when half the universes don’t even have the same flow of time, but 2013 seems about right to him. Maybe a bit ahead?

“You have six fingers,” Ogura observes. “Is that normal, or just you?”

Ford smiles, but he’s sure it looks a bit strained.

“Just me. Postaxial polydactyly.”

Ogura makes a small grunt.

“Rare. Doesn’t seem like a coincidence, either.”

“A coincidence?” Ford says, completely unable to follow the man’s logic. He’s obviously smart--no question about that--but Ford’s pretty sure that Ogura’s giving him a run for his money in terms of being _really_  awful at explaining things in the proper order.

Ogura raises his hands, spreading his fingers to demonstrate. He only has five, which only confuses Ford more.

“I’m not following,” he admits after a moment, and Ogura points towards the door.

“Remember the thing you couldn’t see out there?”

“The invisible creature that made my brain hurt?”

“It also has six fingers in the exact same configuration as your own hands.”

Ford has to agree, because _that_  doesn’t seem like a coincidence either.

There’s a sudden knock at the door, and Ogura lets out an exasperate sounding sigh before standing up.

“What happened to ‘they won’t burst in until I get clear’?” Ford asks, getting up himself as his hand falls to the gun at his side.

“Someone got bored, obviously.”


End file.
